


Private Show

by magickmoons



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Lapdance, M/M, Stripper Dean, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-27 22:14:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10817817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magickmoons/pseuds/magickmoons
Summary: After a rough week, Castiel's friend Gabe decides to surprise him with a stripper to cheer him up.





	Private Show

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Unforth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unforth/gifts).



> Also posted on [my tumblr](http://magickmoons.tumblr.com/post/160288145685/prompt-cas-is-a-businessman-in-the-doldrums-dean) for a prompt from unforth: Cas is a businessman in the doldrums. Dean is the stripper that Gabriel hires to cheer him up.
> 
> * * *

Cas could feel the bass reverberating through the walls as he keyed Gabe's security code in at the back of the building, grateful to bypass the crowded, noisy strip club. He headed up the stairs to Gabe's private residence, hoping that whatever his friend wanted, it would be quick. Cas wanted nothing more than to get home and put this week behind him. But Gabe had insisted that Cas stop by on his way home, and Cas had learned quickly when they'd roomed together as college freshmen, that one crossed Gabe at their own peril.

He tapped on the door to announce himself and was already striding into Gabe's living room before he realized that there was someone else there.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said automatically. "I was supposed to meet Gabe here. I didn't mean to intrude."

"No apologies necessary." The stranger's voice was like honey over sex, and Castiel focused on the man for the first time instead of peering around the room as if Gabe would pop out of the shadows. He was tall, well-built, with the brightest green eyes Cas had ever seen and plush lips curved into a cocky grin. He moved with an easy confidence as he approached, stretching out a hand which Cas shook without thought.

"My name's Dean. And I think you're actually here to meet me."

Dean gave a gentle tug, urging Cas to take a seat on the couch.

"I don't understand," Cas said weakly, unable to tear his eyes away from the very attractive curve of Dean's ass as he walked over to the bar and poured a couple of fingers of whiskey in a glass. He handed the drink to Cas.

"Make yourself comfortable."

Cas sipped the drink gratefully; Gabe always stocked the good stuff for his personal use. "Gabriel asked me to drop by tonight, said he had something to cheer me up."

Dean quirked one eyebrow and stepped back, holding his arms out to either side. "Surprise."

Swallowing a healthy gulp, Cas eyed Dean critically. "You ... you work for Gabe."

Dean nodded smugly, hitting a button on the remote from the end table.

"At the club," Cas clarified.

"Part time anyway," Dean answered as a sensual guitar riff filled the apartment. He took another step back, placing himself 'center stage' in front of the couch. His hips and shoulders gently swayed with each beat of the music.

"And this is what? Some kind of private show?"

"Exactly," Dean winked. "Gabe didn't think you'd be up for the whole club experience tonight. So you get me." As he spoke, he ran his hands over his torso, smoothing the light blue button-down across his muscular chest, trailing down to his thighs and back up to his belly, drawing Cas's eye inexorably to the rather impressive package just noticeable under the tight denim.

Cas licked his lips.

His eyes traced the tempting bow of those long legs and continued down, noticing that Dean was barefoot, then back up past the jeans, the belt, the shirt ...

"You're wearing real clothes?"

Dean paused where he was starting to unbutton his collar. "Yeah?" he laughed.

"I meant, street clothes."

"Oh, yeah. If you'd prefer a costume, I can go down to the club and grab something -- "

"No! No, uh, this ... this is fine."

Fine didn't even begin to cover it, Cas thought as he watched Dean's fingers move button by button, until his shirt was hanging loose from his shoulders, framing a smooth chest and dusky rose nipples. Cas took a deep breath, biting back a groan as his libido shifted from casual appreciation to Want. Now.

"Unless you ... it would be ... easier," Castiel stammered.

Dean smiled wickedly, moving toward the couch as he slowly the shirt slide down his arms. He was toned and fit, but not from time spent at the gym. Castiel wondered what Dean's day job was that kept him in such good shape.

"Easier, yeah," Dean acknowledged. "It takes some talent to strip actual clothing without looking like a complete doofus, but fortunately ... "

He slipped an arm out of the shirt and pulled the hanging fabric around to brush it across Castiel's face. Cas sneaked a quick sniff -- mostly laundry detergent, but a soft touch of something deeper, muskier, that went straight to his already hardening dick.

A small sound of frustration made him look up, barely catching a glimpse of the shirt sleeve bunched around Dean's wrist before Dean was straddling him, knees to either side of Cas's legs, sliding his hands (and the shirt) out of sight behind Cas's head.

Cas's smirk disappeared quickly when Dean lowered himself just far enough to pivot his hips against Cas's lap, an electric surge that had Cas gasping.

"Told you," Dean said, bringing his arms back into view, sans shirt. "Talent." He licked his lips as he stared into Cas's eyes. Then he blinked a couple of times and gracefully slid back and off the couch till he was standing again. Cas concentrated on breathing as watched the muscles in Dean's torso and arms work as he moved.

Another song started up.

In some part of his mind, Cas thought he should put a stop to this. He'd been to Gabe's club plenty of times, he'd had lap dances before, but this ... was different. Maybe because there wasn't anyone else here. Maybe because Dean was actually chasing away the accumulated mental crap that had been consuming him all week. Maybe because if he'd met Dean in any other situation ... 

But it wasn't any other situation, and so Cas sat and watched Dean unbuckle his belt and tug it loose. He watched Dean playfully drag it along his chest, before tossing it onto the couch. Cas ran his fingers over the leather, unable to resist touching it before the warmth from Dean's body evaporated.

"Leave them on," Cas ordered, as Dean hands moved to unzip his jeans.

He paused, then finished unzipping with a quirked eyebrow. The jeans slipped an inch or two, resting on his hips and showing a tantalizing shadow of hair in the vee of the fly.

Castiel groaned as he looked at the picture Dean made. The man was perfect.

Dean grinned. "Maybe a costume wouldn't have been a bad idea. We've got a great cowboy getup down there."

Cas shook his head. Nothing could top what was standing in front of him.

"Well then, how about we get down to business?"

Next thing he knew, Cas had a lap full of Dean, expertly teasing as he hovered over him, leaned in close enough that Cas could feel the heat from his skin, straightened up so that Cas's mouth was scant inches away from his chest (so close, he could just lean forward and taste) then grinding down, providing glorious (not enough, no, not nearly enough) pressure on Cas's erection. Dean's hands were everywhere, burning trails through Cas's shirt, his hair, scratching through his stubble.

Cas panted his way through it, their eyes locked together. He was unsure if Dean was even moving anymore; they were just staring at each other -- an intense connection ramping his arousal higher and higher. And suddenly, Castiel understood what people meant when they talked about eye sex.

Dean leaned close, his cheek brushing Castiel's, his breath warm against his ear. "You know, we're not in the club right now." He let his knees spread a little more, dropping more firmly into Cas's lap. When he spoke, Cas could feel his lips against his sideburns. "Club rules don't apply up here."

He pulled back, looking at Cas expectantly, as if Cas could think of anything beyond Dean's lips and eyes and the way his ass fit perfectly against him.

Dean ran a hand down Cas's arm, lifted his hand. "You can touch me."

"Oh," Cas breathed, letting his hands hover for just a minute, waiting for the treasure to be taken away, but Dean just smiled and waited. Finally, his hands rested on warm skin, smooth, and then he couldn't stop.

Dean's eyes fluttered shut as Cas stroked up along the delicate curve of his spine, explored the contours of his biceps, the soft flesh over his belly. He dropped his head forward, resting it softly against Cas's. Cas touched his cheek, traced the line of his jaw, finally resting his thumb against those soft lips.

"Cas, can I --" Dean began, his voice husky with desire. His tongue flicked out against Cas's thumb.

"Fuck, yes," Cas muttered, running his thumb over Dean's bottom lip, tugging just a little as they leaned in. The first touch of Dean's lips to his was oddly tentative for as confident as Dean had been to this point. Cas snaked a hand back to the nape of Dean's neck, drawing him in, angling him perfectly for Cas to focus all the urgency, all the tension that had been building. He swept his tongue over Dean's lips, pushing past as soon as Dean opened with a moan, tasting and taking till they had to break apart just to breathe, then pulling him back again.

Cas's mouth began wandering, nipping along Dean's jaw, licking down his neck. The needy little sounds Dean was making were incredible, his shivers exquisite. Cas bit down gently where Dean's neck met his shoulder, and Dean cried out, his hips bucking forward. Cas firmed his bite, felt Dean's hands tighten against his back, pushing them together.

"God, please tell me you're not dating my boss," Dean mumbled.

Cas pulled back and looked at him in consternation. "What? No!"

Dean winced. "Didn't mean to say that out loud."

"Why would you think that?"

"Well, not to sound ... but I'm a pretty big draw down there, and for Gabe to take me off the schedule, not to mention cover my tips for the night, you must be pretty important to him."

"Old friends, nothing more."

Dean let out of deep sigh of relief and leaned into a soft kiss. "That's really good to hear. 'Cause I really think I'd like to continue this sometime when I'm not on the clock."

Cas caught his lower lip between his teeth and gently pulled, loving the ragged groan it elicited, until an uneasy thought settled in his mind. Releasing Dean's lip with a kiss, he sat back. "Okay, now please tell me that Gabe isn't paying for  -- " He waggled his hand back and forth between them.

"No. This is all me." Cas's eyes lit up, but before he could restart their activities, Dean slid off his lap to settle on the couch beside him. "But, since we're still technically on his dime, maybe we should just stick to the mission: cheering you up."

Cas looked at Dean and shook his head slowly. "The only way I get cheerier is ... off-mission shall we say?"

Dean threw back his head and laughed. He was still laughing when Gabe came in, one hand covering his face, unsubtly peeking through the huge gap in his fingers.

"What the hell, Cassie?" he said, dropping his arms to his sides. "You're corrupting my talent!"

"Gabriel, I assure you nothing untoward has happened."

Gabe shared a look with Dean, who smiled at Cas. "I think that's his point."

"Exactly! I was supposed to walk in on perversion and debauchery, not politely clothed laughter."

They both laughed at that, given that Gabe had missed the debauchery by just a few minutes.

"Sorry, Gabe." Dean shrugged.

"Well, you can make it up to me. What say you two to a game of strip poker?"

They stood simultaneously. "Actually, I think we'll be going now," Castiel said as Dean slipped behind the couch to retrieve his shirt. "But thank you. I am, in fact, quite cheered up."

Gabe looked at him speculatively. "You are, aren't you?"

Dean slipped his shirt back on, then started on his socks and shoes while Gabe kept making more outrageous offers for the night's activities.

"Okay, then, I'll come with you guys. Whatcha doing?"

Dean grinned and clapped Gabe on the shoulder. "It's a private party, man."

"Huh." Gabe looked back and forth between the two of them, his eyes widening. He leered at them. "Well, all right, then. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Cas rolled his eyes, but smiled at Gabe warmly. Gabe winked back.

He shouted after them when they were about halfway down the stairs. "Okay, well you two can fight over who gets me as his best man at the wedding. And tonight -- definitely gonna make a good anecdote for my toast -- how you two owe it all to me, and especially how I sacrificed my own fun times so you two could ditch --" The sound of female voices interrupted him. "Well, hello ladies!" His voice, and the new female voices, faded as Cas and Dean stepped outside the building.

They looked at each other.

"So Gabe did have one good suggestion," Dean said.

"Debauchery?" Cas guessed.

"Glad to see we're on the same page." Dean hooked a finger through Cas's belt loop and pulled him closer. "So the only question is: your place or mine?"


End file.
